


mirrors are just glass (but I wish to be more than that)

by doku_no_kimi



Category: Twisted-Wonderland (Video Game)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M, POV First Person, Post-Canon, TreyCate Implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 14:55:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29718915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doku_no_kimi/pseuds/doku_no_kimi
Summary: It’s a scene I’ve seen him act out hundreds of times, but one I could watch a thousand times more.“Marry me.”Rook’s POV
Relationships: Rook Hunt/Vil Schoenheit
Comments: 5
Kudos: 38





	mirrors are just glass (but I wish to be more than that)

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

_  
_The familiar buzz of Vil’s alarm goes off and I groan irritably at the sound of it even though I’m not the one it’s trying to drag out of bed.

Vil keeps it on mostly as a precaution now. Considering how long he’s kept to the same morning routine it’s rare he doesn’t wake up at least a few minutes before it. _I suppose I’m to blame_ , I grin to myself. I did keep him up later than usual last night.

Vil reaches an arm out from underneath the covers to shut it off, then rolls over and buries himself against me. The feel of his soft silk chemise and bare skin is cool and pleasant against my own and the lingering smell of his shampoo and familiar scent invades my senses as it fills the air around me.

Instinctively I wrap an arm around him to pull him closer, my lips coming to rest against the top of his head. Vil is adorable when he wants to be spoiled like this, but calling attention to it or teasing him will only unnerve him. Not wanting to ruin the moment I indulge him in silence, gently running my fingers through his hair and carefully working out any small tangles they snag on.

Adorable. Precious.

These words spring to my mind faster now than the ones like beautiful or sophisticated I would normally praise him with- words that make me realize there will never be anyone else in my life more important than him. There are countless beautiful things to see and experience as soon as I step outside our apartment, but as thrilling as they are none compare to discovering another side of Vil to love in the time we spend together like this.

Apparently satisfied, Vil rubs away the sleep that clings to his long lashes and finally makes as if to turn to roll out of bed and start his day but I tighten my hold on him, unwilling to let him go just yet. The beauty of moments like these is fleeting, and selfishly I want to keep them with me if only for a few seconds longer.

“Fufufu.”

I feel the warm breath of his muffled laughter against my bare chest. Vil already knows that between the two of us I’m not as much of a morning person, and that if given the choice I’d rather him remain here in bed with me. If he can’t be persuaded by spoiling alone there are other ways, I muse, and begin tracing lazy circles against his abdomen.

“You’re insatiable,” Vil chides, but we both know he finds it flattering that I never tire from wanting him. “If you don’t stop you’ll make me miss my morning run.”

“Would that be such a bad thing?” I propose.

“It will be if I have to listen to you tell me my face has gotten rounder again because I did,” Vil huffs.

“You know I don’t mind,” I say, lazily tracing the outline of his jaw.

“You know I do. The industry isn’t known for being forgiving, and besides that neither one of us is getting any younger,” he emphasizes by poking my side.

“Ah, how you wound me,” I say with a mock pout.

“You’ll survive,” Vil counters with a hasty peck on the cheek to distract me, quickly slipping out from my embrace and from our bed.

Before I can convince him to reconsider, Vil draws open the curtains and the room is flooded with light. I blink as I get accustomed to the sudden brightness, my eyes traveling to follow his practiced movements. Vil changes into his usual athletic wear, his deft fingers recreating the half-braided ponytail he favors within minutes.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” Vil calls out from behind him with a wink. Slightly exaggerating the movement of his hips, he gives me a perfect view of his backside as he leaves the room.

After he’s gone I begin formulating a counterattack. I set out the ingredients to blend into one of Vil’s usual morning smoothies, then prepare a light breakfast of toast, fruit, and yogurt for myself. Placing the finished smoothie out on the table, I brush my teeth and browse through the news until I hear him at the door.

“How thoughtful,” Vil thanks me for the smoothie, pressing a chaste kiss to my forehead. The newspaper hides any evidence of the sly grin on my face.

As soon as he empties the glass I pick him up and toss him over one shoulder, carrying him with me to the shower to continue where we left off. Vil protests at first, but once I’ve made quick work of his clothes and my hands are on his bare skin his body soon obliges.

“Don’t you look pleased with yourself,” he nudges me after, the two of us taking turns rinsing off under the hot water. I merely hum in response as I grab the bath sponge and lather it to wash him.

Over the years we’ve been living together it’s become easier for me to make selfish demands of both his body and time like this. And yet... for the past few months I’ve been unable to ask him to indulge me with the one thing I want most.

_Marry me._

A part of me still doesn’t believe I deserve for him to say yes. Vil could have anyone in the entire world. What right did I have to ask him to choose me for the rest of his life? Vil is more than the celebrity everyone else sees, but I’m not naive about the whispers and the comments over the years- the ones I do my best to ignore and let roll off my back. 

When we were in school I never asked for more than the privilege of standing by his side and supporting his endeavors, but even then it was the question on the tip of everyone’s tongue. Still now, despite the fact neither his manager nor anyone else close enough to him in the industry has ever dared to ask in my presence, I can tell they wonder what he sees in me.

A few months before our graduation Vil approached me about living together and I readily agreed, although it wasn’t long into our arrangement that my role in his life evolved from just assisting him to something much more private.

Vil’s acting and modeling career is enough to support the both of us and with his encouragement I’ve been able to pursue my own artistic interests. At first it seemed like an unfair arrangement and I tried to bring up the idea of applying for something full time in order to help contribute, but Vil was adamant about not seeing me tied down by someone else’s schedule.

“I’d hate for both of us to be busy and our days off not match up,” he reasoned. “Call it selfish, but I’d much prefer to have you there to keep me company when I’m home.”

I filled the days or weeks Vil would be off shooting advertisements or a movie by studying photography in earnest and giving volunteer art classes, showcasing my own work alongside others at community exhibitions. The work was fulfilling enough and as someone heavily invested in the arts himself, Vil eventually brought up the idea of setting up a non-profit organization in his name for me to head so my activities would have more reach.

This past year we’ve been able to introduce art programs to a number of disadvantaged communities and offer opportunities and support to promising young talent. To say that everything with Vil has been more than I could ever ask for would be an understatement, but sometimes I have to wonder if it was only the familiarity between us that prompted him to settle down with me instead of seeking out something or someone better.

After stepping out of the shower Vil changes into a fuzzy roomwear set- one gifted to him from Trey and Cater last Christmas when we all got together to celebrate- and pads into the living room looking clean and refreshed.

I take note of the matching slippers on his feet. _Fumu, how cute._ I wonder what all his followers would say if they could see him like this.

The living room is the largest space in our apartment, filled with enough stacked bookshelves that it could almost double as a personal library with furniture. Vil picks up some script from an upcoming project, then slips on his reading glasses before settling into the large, deep set chair that sits next to the window.

Today is one of the first days off he’s had in a while so it doesn’t surprise me that he probably plans to spend much of it reading like he enjoys when he has the time.

Once lost in thought he doesn’t seem to pay any mind to the ombré-colored loose strands of hair that begin to fall around his face. I could sit and admire him all day, but I also have some work of my own to finish. I place a stack of developed photographs down to sort through, trying to decide on a theme for an upcoming exhibition and which ones to display.

After an hour and a half passes I get up to stretch my legs and make some tea for the two of us. It’s not uncommon for us to spend quiet days at home together like this, just enjoying the comfort of each other’s presence.

Another hour passes and this time it’s Vil who comes over to where I’m sitting, asking if I want lunch as he gives my shoulders a rub. When I nod in agreement he goes to the kitchen and begins reheating some leftovers from yesterday, then gets started on making a salad.

Vil usually plans our meals and cooks, while I take care of the dishes and grocery shopping. I don’t mind- I don’t have to worry about anyone stopping me at the supermarket for a picture or an autograph like he does. And when it comes to food, Vil’s always been rather particular about his diet.

When he was the leader of Pomefiore he’d take it upon himself to suggest or approve menu options for himself and the rest of us at the dorm, and even back then I never had any complaints. You could say I’ve always been used to letting him take charge, not only in the kitchen but in most aspects of our relationship. He sets the rhythm and I shadow his movements, doing my best to anticipate his mood or needs. While there are parts of himself that Vil will may never show another soul, I’m confident there’s no one that understands him quite like I do.

Although, for someone who lives such an extraordinary life he seems to find the most comfort in the ordinary, which is why I’ve never quite figured out what about me initially drew his interest. I can’t ever imagine he’s ever thought of me as normal. 

I watch him bustle around the kitchen, one finger resting on his lips in concentration as he decides which ingredients will pair best for the salad.

After he’s combined some romaine, arugula, and kale he pauses before moving on to the onions, popping a small piece of bread into his mouth to keep from crying. He chews on it slowly as he slices into them, brows furrowed, and then when it’s time to move on to the tomatoes his expression softens.

_Adorable_ , I think to myself again. It’s a scene I’ve seen him act out hundreds of times, but one I could watch a thousand times more.

“Marry me.”

The words come tumbling out of my mouth, heat rising to my cheeks once I realize I’ve spoken the thought aloud.

“What?” Vil freezes. He gives me a curious, scrutinizing look, the hand he was using to chop tomatoes still hanging in midair.

“Ah, I- It’s nothing!” I manage with a sheepish smile. 

“I wasn’t thinking- or rather I was- but we haven’t really talked about it and I’ve been waiting for the right time to approach the subject but I never wanted you to feel pressured to give me an answer because I’m happy if you’re happy just the way things are so-“

“Rook, what’s gotten into you all of a sudden?” he interrupts me to ask once he’s regained his composure, laying down the knife on the counter.

My mind is racing a mile a minute, trying to diffuse the situation. I hadn’t planned on asking him anytime this soon and even if I had, certainly not like this.

“Fufufu.” Vil’s amused laughter interrupts my thoughts.

“I’m sorry,” he says covering his mouth to muffle the sound. “I shouldn’t laugh, it’s just so rare to see you get this flustered.”

“What are you so worried for? Did you think I’d say no?” he teases. “Honestly, I was beginning to wonder if you’d ever ask...”

“Does this mean...?”

“Yes,” he answers, “but only if you’ll ask again, and properly this time.”

“Ah!” I immediately rise from my chair, striding over to where he’s still standing. This time I don’t hesitate before taking his hand in mine and getting down on one knee.

“My beautiful Vil...” I begin as I look directly into his eyes, careful not to rush my words.

“A famous poet once said that love is a mirror which reflects the beauty of a person, as long as they have the courage to stand before it. And every day, for weeks and months and years, yours is the only image I’ve ever seen reflected in its glass. I could live each day like this, completely captivated by your beauty and never want for anything more but... I wonder what it would be like to always know that if I peered into love’s mirror, I’d see not only your reflection, but my own beside it.”

“For years you’ve been writing your own story, where I happen to be but a reoccurring character within its chapters, but if you’ll let me I’d like to be inked onto the rest of its pages, with a place in your story until the very end. What do you say, Vil? Would you allow me to spend the rest of my life with you?”

I wait for him to answer, unwavering in my gaze.

“Yes, Rook,” he finally manages, trying to hold back the tears welling up in the corner of his eyes.

“Oh, Vil! I’m so happy! I-” choking on the rest I shed my own tears of joy with him, standing up to take him into my arms.

One kiss turns into two, followed by a third for good measure, but then suddenly Vil breaks apart from me.

“I have to call Dad! And I’ll need Adela to draft a formal announcement. And then what am I going to wear? It’ll take months to draft and design the perfect outfit and have it made so I’ll have to start sketching ideas right away and-”

This time it’s Vil’s turn to ramble, wasting no time before diving headfirst into the new task of planning our engagement. I smile to myself as I listen to him continue listing off a million “to dos” between now and whatever date we set.

As soon as we finish lunch Vil calls his dad to share the news. We’ve only spoken a handful of times at larger industry events, so it’s a relief to receive his blessing. While it wouldn’t surprise me if he’d previously made his own assumptions about the nature of our relationship, this is the first time Vil’s ever formally introduced me to him as his partner. 

Vil ends the call promising he’ll schedule a date for the three of us to have dinner together soon, and then I ring Trey up to tell him about the day’s exciting turn of events.

“It’s about time! I’m really happy for the two you,” he congratulates me with a laugh.

“Way to put the pressure on me, though,” he adds jokingly, “I’m sure Cater will be a little envious when I tell him you proposed first.”

“Ah, but I’m sure Monsieur Magicame would be willing to overlook that with a great plan and the perfect ring.”

“Yeah, only you would be crazy enough to pop the question to Vil without either. But hey, consider yourself one hell of a lucky guy he still said yes.”

Trey’s not wrong. I may be the type of person to follow my heart wherever it leads in the moment, but all the proposal scenarios I’d ever entertained before were much less spontaneous. I regret not having a ring to give him yet, even if I know by nature Vil’s not a materialistic person.

After Trey and I hang up I find him sitting at the table, jotting down notes as he scrolls through some of this year’s wedding collections on his tablet.

“Vil?” I call out from over his shoulder.

“Hmm?”

“You know, ideally I’d planned on getting the ring first but... what if the two of us went to pick out something out together?”

“I’d like that,” he nods.

“Perfect,” I reply, kissing his cheek. “I can’t wait.”

“Rook...” he begins hesitantly without looking up. “You know that I don’t think you’re just some character in my story, right? That you mean more to me than that?”

“Oui,” I answer.

Vil nods again, satisfied, before changing the subject.

“Tell me... What do you think about something like this?”

“I think you’d look beautiful in anything.”

“Naturally, but no, I mean for you.”

“Oh là là,” I reply, blushing. I’ve never worn anything so flashy.

Vil only laughs at my reaction and continues to scroll through the rest of the pieces.

Of course, in the end I’ll wear whatever Vil has his heart set on. It’s only a small price to pay for every other day we get to spend together like this.

**Author's Note:**

> Long time, no write.
> 
> Episode 5 left me with much to think about but I figured why not work on something fluffy instead of diving headfirst into more angst. Forgive me for how cheesy the proposal is (/ω＼)
> 
> As always, thanks for reading!


End file.
